


Ban Appeals

by Gear_Storm



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ban Appeal AU, Healing, Phil is their dad, canon typical vilonce, doesnt follow dsmp lore read note at begining for details, ill add tags as i update since im not sure who will and wont turn up yet, minecraft is the real world but video game mechanics still apply, no beta we die like schlatt in the drug van, redemption arc, sleepy bois inc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27675517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gear_Storm/pseuds/Gear_Storm
Summary: If the death is significant enough there's a chance you don't respawn. Its called a failed respawn. Some think its permadeath, but those who know better know its actually sudden ban due to error. It happens when there is too much going on to the player when the server tries to respawn them. For example, lots of extreme emotions, severe injury, poor mental state.The first thing Phil realizes is the signs, he knows as Wilbur shoves a sword into his hands begging to be killed what will happen.The second thing he realizes, as he looks at what Wilbur has done, the chaos and destruction happening below them, is that its probably Wilbur's only chance at healing.[Wilbur Soot was slain by Philza]
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson
Comments: 21
Kudos: 107





	1. [Wilbur_Soot was slain by Philza]

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've posted fanfiction on AO3, and the first time I've posted fanfiction since like 2014. Comments are greatly appreciated! 
> 
> Welcome to the Ban Appeal AU, I'm not sure yet if this is going to be a two shot or a multi chapter fic. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Note: I wont be following the canon lore of dsmp. In this story, theres no fundys wilburs son no dreams actually a phsycho god basically its an au where minecraft is the real world, no ones related except the sleepy bois + tubbo. Theres no deep lore to the wars, its just friends fighting with each other being over dramatic theater kids until someone took it a little too far and the pogtopia arc and the final war happened. Because I want to address things that happen in the wars but not have to write around the confusing complex lore that characterizes people completely different from their actual selves, like dream.

If the death is significant enough there's a chance you don't respawn. People who don't know any better assume it's a permanent death, but those more familiar with the odd and rare circumstance know that you actually get banned by the server. Not because you did something wrong, but respawn can be finicky sometimes if too much is happening at once. If enough problems line up- lots of extreme emotions, severe injury, poor mental state, for example. It's fixable, like any ban you are required to submit a ban appeal to the server admin.

So when Philza looked at the crater in front of him, looks at the fire and the chaos as Techno goes ballistic on the l'Manbergians for trying to replace Schlatt with another president, another government. When he turns back to Wilbur, his son shoves a sword into his hands and begs him to kill him. He knows what will happen if he executes his son right here like this. Everything is all lined up perfectly for a failed respawn, and he's not even sure if that was intentional on Wilburs part. If Wilbur even realizes what will happen. He wouldn’t want to kill his son like this even if it wasn't going to result in failed respawn. But Phil looks out at the chaos one more time., at the crater Wilbur did not hesitate to make even when they had won the war. 

Maybe, as much as it hurt him, Phil was long too late to be able to fix this just by being there for Wilbur. Wilbur needed some time away from his home, the wars that plagued it, and the paranoia. Maybe that was exactly the kind of chance to heal Wilbur needed.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Phil turns back to his son and drives the sword through his stomach.

[Wilbur_Soot was slain by Philza]

[Wilbur_Soot has left the game]

\-----------

\-------

\---

When Wilbur respawns, it's wrong. He still feels the phantom sword in his stomach, his shirt and his trench coat are still stained with blood even though the stab hole is gone. He takes a few minutes just curled up on the ground to gather himself, because the pain is still so ever present and he _hurts._

Once he is able to think past the pain again he sits up, and realizes he’s not where he should be.

He’s not where his spawn was set in Pogtopia. He’s not at the world's natural spawn in the forest. He’s in the middle of a plains biome, and he can’t see any signs of civilization. Where the hell is he? Checking his communicator… he’s not even in dream smp anymore. He’s spawned in a newly generated world, with the message [You have been banned from this server!] in bright red text, the reasoning listed as [error]. 

He… He’s been _banned_.

He stows the communicator away. He’s in a newly generated world with absolutely no tools or materials, he’s going to die (again) if he doesn’t do anything before dark. He can worry about the situation after he puts a shelter together.

So he gets to work, gathers wood from the oak forest at the edge of the plains and stone from a cave he finds. Kills a few nearby cows and sheep until he’s got food and wool, and uses the remaining wood to build a small shack, and the sun is setting by the time he puts a bed together. He makes sure the door is shut tight before laying back on the bed, and pulls his communicator out again.

There’s a new message.

<Philza> [hi wilbur]

<Philza> [by now you’ve probably noticed you’ve experienced a failed respawn, and got banned by server error.]

<Philza> [i don’t know if that was your intention, some sort of dramatic end for you alongside your symphony as you called it.]

<Philza> [i think some time away from the wars and chaos would do you some good, so ive asked dream to let me be in charge of your ban appeal.]

<Philza> [for your ban appeal, i want to see you prove you have gotten better. that you have healed enough to handle the chaos of the dream smp without breaking down and hurting yourself and others.]

<Philza> [dont think of this as a punishment, i just want to see you heal. i'm sorry i didnt come sooner, if i had maybe it wouldnt have come to this.]

Wilbur re-reads the message a few times to be sure he read it correctly.

He supposes he experienced a fitting end, failed respawn death by his fathers sword after blowing up L’Manberg. Maybe he shouldn’t even bother fulfilling the ban appeal requirements Phil set. 

He spends a few days alone in his new world, simply building up a house and killing mobs that attack it. He sleeps a lot too. Fuck, when was the last time he slept this long? Not since Pogtopia, hell he didn’t sleep much when he was president either. Or during the war for independence now that he thinks about it, it's kind of hard to sleep when you need to be ready to fight off an attack at any moment.

…

Well, there's just further proof he should stay where he is. He doesn’t need the wars (that he started) or the stress (that he placed on his own shoulders) or the backstabbing friends (who fought with him in the end. Tommy who never left his side to begin with.) 

It takes him a week of accidentally trying to talk to friends and brothers who weren’t there to reply to Phil.

<Wilbur_Soot> [terms accepted. ill work on it.]

<Wilbur_Soot> [i miss you.]

Phil replies almost immediately.

<Philza> [i miss you too. hope to see you soon.]

Wilbur doesn’t respond. Instead he switches his communicator into admin mode. He’s in charge of this newly generated world, and he’s got a plan to prove he can handle coming back to dream smp. He goes a few hundred blocks away from the house he's built and sets up a border around a large untouched area of land, then switches himself to creative mode and makes a bedrock platform for himself in the sky above the sectioned off land. From there he sends out a message into a public chat for players between worlds and servers. An invite, of sorts.

It all starts with about 100 random strangers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought of this AU when I realized Wilbur's 100 player videos were kind of like him trying to prove he could lead a civilization, or be a good pet owner, and thought "what if these take place post-dream smp war?'
> 
> I'm @gearstorm on tumblr and @gearstorm_ on twitter!


	2. Wilbur can definitely handle this!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With this plan, Wilbur will show Phil how he totally doesn't need to spend time away from the smp and can totally handle coming back at any time.  
> Totally no trauma or toxic thoughts here. At all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to restructure this chapter like 3 times, it was tough getting it how I wanted it. After writing exclusively for yourself for a few years, you forget that you have to make sure its fun for others to read to. This chapter turned out a lot longer then the last one lol, hopefully I can keep the more proper lengths up.
> 
> Again, comments greatly appreciated! :D
> 
> Also, because this is an AU and not a novelization of the 100 player videos, these chapters about the videos they're referencing will focus more of Wilburs thoughts and behaviors, as well as Philzas comments and reactions, then the actual details of the events taking place from these videos.

<Philza> [so what’s the plan?]

<Wilbur_Soot> [i’m going to put my communicator to camera mode, set it fly around and follow me so I can focus on running the event while it records so you can see.]

<Philza> [sounds good]

<Philza> [make sure you dont cut anything bad out. i totally get youll have slip ups, but i still need to see how you are doing.]

<Wilbur_Soot> [makes sense, ill only cut out stuff when not much is happening.] 

<Wilbur_Soot> [this will probably take a couple days after all.]

<Philza> [ok. send me whatever you’ve got at the end of each day, we can go over it together.]

Wilbur puts his communicator aside and checks the command blocks he has set just outside of the designated area one last time. He’s got a faux hardcore mode set up, it’ll automatically put anyone (except himself) into spectator mode if they die. If respawns are free things might get rough quickly. And it’ll also make sure everyone is also set to spawn within the borders, since the natural world spawn is by his house. 

It’s been about two days but about 100 people have now responded to his event invite signed up to show up today. He showed it to Phil while he explained the event to him. He and a bunch of strangers are going to see if they can build something that at least resembles a functioning society over the course of a few days. No one will actually be staying once they’re done, so they’re just going for close enough. This doesn’t need to be a new L’Manberg. (Not that L’Manberg ever functioned well.) He’s also not going to be directly helping them as much as he can help it, he will be in creative mode the whole time for simplicity sake and guide them as the admin and event runner. 

He picks his communicator back up and turns on the camera mode, letting the device fly out of his hand and float around him like a drone. Once he’s sure it has started recording, he clears his throat.

“Hey Phil, so I’ve just opened the queue and once everyones here, we’re going to work out a plan of how we want to do this. Hopefully this goes well, you never know with a bunch of random strangers.” He chuckles. Hopping through the border, he spots the first few people filtering in. The numbers are quickly multiplying, so he heads over the shore and builds up a post board out of bedrock. He gets up on top of it, and looks out at the field. Everyones just standing around chatting, a couple people are running around. His communicator lets out a notification sound informing him the queue has emptied and everyone is here now. Two fingers in his mouth, he lets out a loud whistle. Everyone’s head snaps in his direction.

“ALRIGHT EVERYONE, OVER HERE!” He calls, hands cupped around his mouth to make sure they hear him. He uses creative mode to give himself a couple signs while he waits for everyone to gather. A few of the people in the front give him a weird look, seemingly surprised by him somehow. Was it his dumb hair? Probably, it’s way too long and basically covering his eyes. He tries to swipe it out of the way. It immediately falls back into his face. Whatever, he’ll get it cut later. He glances around looking for the communicator to make sure it has followed him, and once he spots it off to the side, he addresses the crowd again.

* * *

_ <Philza> [i dont think it was your hair that was causing the looks wil] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [what do you mean?] _

_ <Philza> [its a bit concerning you dont notice why yourself. wilbur why are your clothes stained with so much blood?] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [oh] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [i guess i forgot about that] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [when respawn fucked up it was more than just the ban i suppose. the wound was gone but the blood and pain werent.] _

_ <Philza> [fuck wilbur im so sorry] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [i literally begged you to kill me phil you dont need to say sorry] _

_ <Philza> [yes i do. but that was over a week ago now, why are you still wearing the blood stained clothing??] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [well i guess i forgot about the blood. its not like i have other clothes though, spawned in a new world remember?] _

_ <Philza> [how do you just forget that your clothes are soaked with your own blood] _

_ <Philza> [ill send you a package with some of your clothes. get out of that ratty old trench coat.] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [i like this trench coat. >:( it shows how im a dirty crime boi.] _

_ <Philza> [your supposed to be running a event where your building civilization from scratch your not allowed to be a dirty crime boi] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [l’manberg was literally founded on wanting to sell drugs and dream said it was against the rules so we made a country where it wouldn’t be] _

_ <Philza> [what the fuck] _

* * *

“Okay, so we need to work out what a civilization needs if we're going to get anywhere with this!” Wilbur hops down from the bedrock and places a sign on the front of it. “What’s something a functioning civilization needs?”

Wilbur listened as a bunch of them started calling out ideas. He hears something he likes, and writes it down.

“Hospital, good. I hope we don’t actually need it but it’s important if we’re pretending this will become a real community.” He places another sign, almost immediately hears someone say police. “Law enforcement is also important! People to prevent mindless chaos and violence.” He writes that one down to, moving on to the next one. “I heard school? Ha, that's something only servers and worlds with big cities have. Pretty sure all my friends were home taught if at all. But sure let’s write that down.”

He waits for a few more suggestions before continuing. “Wha- did someone just say  _ black market? _ ” His last nation was founded on what could be considered a black market. Illegal potion brewing and selling. “I don’t think we need that.” It won’t end well, trust him he tried already. Countries led by dirty crime boys will lead to war and explosives. Also Phil might get upset. “Food I heard food, writing that down. I want to see farming since there’s not any animals here.” He writes food on the board. “Houses! We can’t just all camp outside, I want a crew of people to build shelters. It doesn’t have to be fancy, just walls and a roof. Okay, we have space for one more thing.”

He listens for a minute, but he just keeps hearing things he’s heard already. The first thing he hears that makes sense, he pauses for a moment before hesitantly writing it down.

“Leadership huh? I suppose you can elect a leader. I’ll be guiding you all but if you want to pick a… a president, or a king-  _ yeah,  _ a king! We can pick a king later today.” He absentmindedly rubs his neck. “King still has to listen to me like everyone else though, if I say do or don’t do something. But I’ll try not to interfere too much.” When he doesn’t hear too much complaining, he moves on. 

He lets them divide themselves into groups of who will work on what, even though most of the first day is bound to just be resource gathering. He notices a clear favourite amongst the five options. 

“A lot of you like the police option! That’s good, people want order.”

* * *

_ <Philza> [thats not why so many people wanted to be police.] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [yeah thanks i kinda found that out.] _

* * *

Wilbur sends everyone off, watches people collect resources for a little while. He’s only just made a complete round of the area when he makes it back to the sign board where he sees a bit of chaos going on.

He watches someone trying to clean up a wall of dirt someone else must have built around the signs, and another person who has placed and written on new signs in front of the board. They’re writing new laws they’ve made up, dumb stuff like ‘no kpop’ and something about following them. Should he interfere? He said he would try not doing that too much, and it does look like someone else is trying to clean it up. He continues watching as what he assumes is a member of the police group comes up and starts fighting the one who was writing on the signs, they both end up in the water.

There were already vandalism and fights breaking out, wonderful. Can’t things stay civil for one hour? He watches the two continue to fight in the water for a moment more before he decides to step in. He floats up to the bedrock jail he built above the water for situations like this and grabs the communicator out of the sky. He sits inside the prison as he quickly types in a command to teleport the player who was vandalising up there with him. Once they are in there, he takes their confusion and disorientation as a chance to float out and block up the top, then settles down on the platform in front of the barred window. He releases the communicator to let it go back to following him, then turns to face the player.

“Hey, hey you.” He tries to catch their attention, but it looks like they are still disoriented. He removes the bars on one side, and reaches in to smack them, snapping them out of it. They startle and look at him, backing away from the window a bit.

“Yeah, hi. You were messing with the plan board, cut that out. We’re supposed to be building a community here remember?” He turns to look down at the people below. “You need to-” when he turns back around there’s wood planks in his face. Wilburs brows furrow as he lets out a low growl. Moving to the other side of the window, he removes those bars as well. “Excuse me I’m trying to-” The player places wood in the opening again. “Hey!” He barks. breaking the wood and glaring at them. “Now you’re just making me angry!” The player looks like they’re about to place more wood again, but Wilbur leans in through the window and smacks their hand before they can. Then he grabs them by their shirt and pulls them forward. “Stop that! I need you to behave. We’re all down there trying to build a country and you’re just causing problems.” He lets out a huff, then lets the frightened player go. “I’ll give you one more chance, okay? Misbehave again and you're out.” He jumps off the platform and floats down to the bottom of the prison, knocking out the bedrock floor and letting the player drop into the water below. He replaces the bedrock and moves on.

* * *

_ <Philza> [that was… uh…] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [what? they werent just messing with other players, the plan board needed to be there and they were vandalising it.] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [i gave them a warning to cut it out and let them go, any admin would do that.] _

_ <Philza> [i suppose your right...] _

* * *

He circles around the area a bit more, trying his best to ignore the occasional pvp occurrences. He’s just guiding. If they aren’t fucking with important things like the plan board, he has to let them deal with it themselves. Tommy was good for that, surprisingly. Whenever he was too busy as president, the other L’Manbergians would naturally go to the vice president to solve issues. (Mostly Fundy scamming people.) Tommy didn’t always handle it well, but he was good at keeping enough control that Wilbur didn’t  _ usually  _ need to step away from whatever had him busy at the time. Too bad the kid was so emotional, even passing up the presidency to chase after his music disks when Wilbur tried to hand the role to him. He might have grown into it, if he kept it. (If Wilbur didn’t blow the place up in the end. But that was Tubbo’s problem now.)

He spots some buildings that have already begun to pop up at the edge of the plains and heads over.

Wilbur struggles to contain a laugh as he walks up to the progress the housing district is making. It’s a few dirt houses, one of which the outside is covered entirely in signs with ‘house’ written repeatedly on them. If they had enough wood to make that many signs, why couldn’t they have just used the wood to build the walls instead of dirt? Oh well, the repeating signs were funny.

It looks like a handful of the participants will have a roof to sleep under the first night. Hopefully those stuck sleeping outside will be able to do so without too many mob attack incidents. Maybe they’ll learn to sleep in groups, taking shifts standing guard. That’s for them to figure out though, once everyone clocks in for the night he’s going to head back to his house so he can send off today’s footage.

He wants to see these houses briefly before he moves on though. So he enters the one with the signs all over it, where there’s a player crafting something in the middle of the room and nothing else. No beds or anything, just an empty dirt hobble save for a man and his crafting bench. 

...Cozy?

The player seems perfectly content, crafting away in the dirt hovel. So Wilbur turns to leave them to it. Before he can though, someone runs in, swinging a sword around wildly. Wilbur jumps back, pressing his back to the wall to avoid the sword out of instinct, forgetting he's in creative mode. They look at Wilbur for a second before stabbing the crafter. Wilbur stares at the violence a moment, neutral expression frozen on his face.

He can’t go ten minutes without seeing someone start stabbing people, can he?

He leaves wordlessly just as the crafter falls, and tries to ignore it as he hears people start calling out asking where the police are. He doesn’t look back.

He can handle the chaos. These are just a bunch of random people being violent, his friends do it all the time. The whole point Phil was making with keeping him banned was that he thought Wilbur couldn't handle it, but  _ he can. _ He just needs something else to focus on right now.

He passes the farms starting up near the plan board, a glance at it reminds him of something. Leadership, right. That fantastic last item on the list.

Actually no, that's a great idea right about now. Too much fighting for his liking, but if he gives them a leader to tell them what to do (what Wilbur wants them to do) then the fighting will stop, or at least the trouble makers will be weeded out. He floats up to hover just above the middle of the event area, and cups his hands around his mouth so he’s sure most everyone will hear his shouts.

“Alright guys electio- leader picking time! I wanna hear some names, time to pick a king!” He yells out, repeating the request a few times. Most people look in his direction, but then go back to work. As if they don’t care who leads their new country. 

If only they knew what a terrible idea that was.

No one actually follows through on his request to shout out any names, but a handful of people do walk up to him and indicate they want to lead. He recognizes two of them, the player who was vandalising earlier? Not what he’d call leader material. And the other is the one who ran into the house and started randomly killing someone in front of him. They want to be king of these people?

_ The nerve. _

Wilbur realizes he was glaring at the player when he shrinks back a little, looking frightened. He turns away and lets his expression fall back to neutral, scanning the rest of the players in front of him. He recognizes one again, but this time it’s for a positive reason. The player who’d been cleaning up the graffiti at the plan board earlier. Good enough for him.

“You, you’ll do. Here come with me.” He grabs the player by under their arms and floats up to the bedrock platform he made when he first started setting this up. Setting them down, he spawns in a gold helmet and plops it on their head. “There you go, your king now. Go lead your people, make them stop fighting and killing each other please.”

The king just stares at him for a moment, then looks down below them at the ground, just cautiously leaning over the edge of the platform. Becoming impatient, Wilbur knocks him off the platform. He watches as he falls and manages to land in a tree, breaking his fall. The new king shifts around until he manages to drop out of the branches and then walks off. 

* * *

_ <Philza> [wow that was an anti climatic crowning. so much for them electing a leader themselves.] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [i tried getting them to! at least i picked someone i saw being helpful instead of those other two destructive players.] _

_ <Philza> [yeah you really gave that one guy a scary look, you ok wil? it does look like things started out a bit rough] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [im fine philza] _

_ <Philza> [im here for you if you need to talk] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [i said im fine, i dont need your help] _

_ … _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [that came out meaner than i meant it to] _

_ <Philza> [no its fine. you need space to deal with this, i get it.] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [im sorry, i do want to talk to you but i dont need help, im fine.] _

_ <Philza> [if your sure] _

* * *

Wilbur doesn’t follow the new king. He wants to give them a chance to do it without his constant influence. (No, he doesn’t. But he’s trying to be good here. He can handle this. He doesn’t need this to be  _ his _ country. It’s just a short community event) He moves over to the farms, they’ve grown a lot for a first day. He’s seen Techno do better in less time but not everyone can be the potato king. The houses are doing better too. Well, sort of. It’s got a frame up for a tall apartment style house but no actual walls or roof yet. And the sun is just about set now, there’s definitely going to be people sleeping outside.

It’s barely been 10 minutes when he hears players in the distance, calling out something that makes him feel something between anger and annoyance.

The king is already dead, according to the populace. He grabs his communicator out of the sky and checks chat, spotting the death message. Scowling, he flies up to the bedrock jail cell. 

“Nope, not dealing with the immediate assassination of the king. I’m going to- I’m fixing this. Just this once, real quick.” He mutters to himself as he types in a command to move the king who's stuck in spectator mode to him, then returns him to survival mode so his ghostly self solidifies and drops into the cell with Wilbur. He releases his communicator to let it continue with its job recording, and starts spawning in diamond armor and a sword. He passes them to the newly resurrected man, watching him put the armor on.

“There, take this and go get your crown back.  _ You're _ their leader, go demand some respect!” He feels something light a tiny fire deep in his gut, as he floats out of the cell and down below it, knocking the floor out to drop the king into the water. 

He watches the player for a little bit this time, making sure the other players don’t try and kill him right away again. He doesn’t know who took the gold helmet he gave him before but he wants to see the man take it back. But it seems the king can't find the crown thief himself, so he gives up watching once he sees enough players gather around the king playfully but still respectfully bowing, confident they wont let him die again so easily. 

He floats up high one more time as he spots a few zombies showing up in the darkness, and shouts out to the players.

“ATTENTION EVERYONE!” He calls. “ITS LATE, SO EVERYONE SHOULD TURN IN FOR THE NIGHT. TRY NOT TO DIE TO THE MOBS! I’VE GOT ADMIN STUFF TO DEAL WITH SO I’LL BE BACK IN THE MORNING!” Without waiting for a response from any of them, he grabs his communicator, ends the recording, and moves past the barrier to head home.

Once he’s back he sits back at the table he built the first week, quickly scrubs through the recorded footage to cut out anything that’s just him moving from place to place. Then he sends the video file to Phil. It only takes a moment for his father to respond.

<Philza> [great! youve probably had a long day, still have the energy to stick around and go over the footage with me?]

<Wilbur_Soot> [yeah, dw about me, ive been in creative mode all day so im good]

<Philza> [nothing too bad happened today did it?]

<Wilbur_Soot> [nah, a bit of a rough start with people pvping] 

<Wilbur_Soot> [but i think i kept it together pretty well!]

He really hoped Phil wouldn’t disagree by the end of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you didn't figure it out yet, any italiziced text conversations between Phil and Wilbur are flash forwards that take place while the two are going over the footage at the end of the day. 
> 
> I'm having a lot of fun actually writing for others again! I hope you liked it so far. :)
> 
> Tumblr: @gearstorm  
> Twitter: @gearstorm_
> 
> See you next time with the chapter that will totally go perfectly well for WIlbur! :D


	3. Bit of a rollercoaster today.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day two! This will be over soon, Wilbur's sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long, everyone but Techno on the dream smp needs to learn the definition of pacing. So many streams. So many distractions.
> 
> Reminder, this is canon divergent so while I might choose to reference things that happen between Wilburs death and the time of writing this, this is still an au and I can choose if Tommy gets exiled 2 weeks after Wilburs death or not if I want.
> 
> Once again, comments are greatly appreciated! :D

<Philza> [you did actually sleep last night right?]

<Wilbur_Soot> [yeah. i might have spent all of yesterday in creative but these guys are exhausting.]

<Wilbur_Soot> [while i have a minute before i need to head back, how are things on the smp?]

<Philza> [kinda complicated.]

Wilbur could hear the silent accusatory tone through the text. He left them with chaos to clean up, no doubt they blamed him for anything going wrong amongst the once-l’manbergians.

<Philza> [new l’manbergs doing well so far but i just know it wont be long before something fucks that up.]

... _ what? _

<Wilbur_Soot> [new l’manberg???]

<Philza> [tubbo had this cool idea to build it all new on top of stilts in the crater. looks better then ever actually.]

<Philza> [so tubbos handling his presidency fine so far but only a matter of time before either tommy starts shit or dream wants chaos.]

<Philza> [tommy could be doing better. hes pretending nothings wrong but i can clearly see him struggling. ive helped rebuild his house after dream blew it up but he doesnt seem to want help with everything else. im kinda just letting him be for now.]

<Wilbur_Soot> [just shove him in a pit and give him something to fight, worked last time.]

<Philza> [yeah no your still in trouble for that one. but i need you to fix your own issues before i start working on all the shit that you did to your brothers.]

<Wilbur_Soot> [we fight all the time its fine. ill come back once you lift the ban, tommy will shout at me for a while, ignore me for a day, then come back and act like nothing happened. hes like a cat in that way.]

<Philza> [wil youve all gone far beyond sibling fights now and you need to fucking realize how much damage you did to eachother.]

<Philza> [i got a chance to speak with techno briefly after he tried to fucking murder tommy. he seemed fine at first but then he just disappeared. no one has seen him and he wont respond to any messages i send him.]

Technos not responding to  _ Phil _ ? That’s not normal. But surely that's not his fault. If Techno wants to brood that's his problem right? Techno always just does whatever he wants.

Maybe he should message him, just to be sure Techno is not actually angry. He opens up a new private message to Techno.

[Wilbur_Soot -> Technoblade]

<Wilbur_Soot> [phil says your ignoring his messages? wtf hes the one person you never ignore]

A few minutes pass before he decides he’s probably going to be ignored as well. Oh well, it's almost sunrise, he should get back to the event. Adjusting his gloves, he realizes he’s still wearing the bloodstained clothing. Sending packages between worlds can get weird, so the clothes Phils sent might not be here for a day or two. It seems the players have adjusted to his appearance though, so even if they don’t show up until the end of the event and Phil unbans him then it won’t matter to him.

He leaves his house and floats off in the direction he came from last night until he sees the shining blue border. The sun is just peeking over the horizon as he jumps past it.

“Your god blesses you with the sun!” He shouts with a laugh, the sun peaking over the horizon behind him. “Better hope you’ve all been good!” Looking around, he sees a couple of camps set up outside, people just now waking up at his shouting. He spots a few still groggy players wandering out of the houses as well.

“Alright, you guys get yourselves up. Farmers hope you’ve got enough wheat to feed everyone. I’ll let you do that for a bit before I want to see progress again!” He floats up to the bedrock platform and sits on the edge, watching people just move about and getting food. He pulls his communicator out ready to swap it into camera mode when he sees a new message.

<Technoblade> [wtf]

<Technoblade> [tommy if you got tubbo to hack your communicator to do this it isnt funny]

What?

<Wilbur_Soot> [techno what are you talking about. is my name coming up as tommy or something?]

<Technoblade> [your dead. dead people cant text.]

... _ Fuck. _ Don’t tell him Techno didn’t know this whole time.

<Wilbur_Soot> [im not dead, failed respawns are ban errors not permadeath]

<Technoblade> [are you serious]

<Technoblade> [well time to shove that grief in a box and never acknowledge those emotions again]

<Wilbur_Soot> [if i knew you actually thought i was dead id have messaged you sooner.]

<Wilbur_Soot> [or if you weren’t apparently ignoring phil hed have known someone needed to tell you]

<Technoblade> [look im glad your not permadead but dont need you of all people lecturing me right now]

<Technoblade> [besides i just wanted quiet for a couple days while i built a new base, i was going to invite phil over as soon as i was done.] 

<Technoblade> [i only responded to you because your supposed to be dead brother texting you is kinda important.]

<Wilbur_Soot> [well i dont know when you left to do that, but its been over a week since i left.]

...

<Technoblade> [fuck i lost track of time didnt i]

<Wilbur_Soot> [yeah maybe just a little, phils worried about you so stop ignoring him.]

<Wilbur_Soot> [i got to go now, phil wont unban me until i convince him im not crazy. ask him if you want more details about that.]

He goes to close chat, but then something occurs to him.

[Wilbur_Soot -> Philza]

<Wilbur_Soot> [i messaged techno. he didnt know how respawn errors work and thought i was permadead this whole time.]

<Philza> [he responded to you??] 

<Philza> [fuck. i didnt know, like i said hes been ghosting everyone on the server. theres been so much going on since you left i didnt even consider he didnt know how failed respawns work.]

<Wilbur_Soot> [well now techno might be slightly traumatized with a week of unnecessary grief. who else thinks im dead?]

<Philza> [tommy thought it was permadeath, but tubbo actually corrected him before i could. not sure why that kid knows how failed respawns work not sure i want to.]

<Philza> [obviously dream knows. not sure who else, theres been a lot going on.]

That wasn’t exactly comforting. But all his brothers knew now, and it will only be another day or two before he’s back. He’ll just have to do a dramatic reveal that he in fact lived. Maybe he can get Tommy to help him with a bit for that, have him set up a sort of resurrection ceremony at spawn just to freak everyone out when it actually works.

He chuckles at the thought as he quickly flips the communicators camera on. 

Wilbur pushes himself off the edge of the platform where he sat, floating back down to take a look around. Everyones up and done eating now, and they've begun building.

Yesterday was mostly just a set up day, gathering as much resources as they needed. Quickly he sees the frames of buildings start to appear, starting with one opposite side of the area from the housing district. It has walls and what looks like some furniture but no roof yet, allowing Wilbur to just float in from the top. There’s a couple people around the building, and a sign in the back. Reading it he realizes what the odd wooden cots are for now.

“Oh, hospital! That’s great, we’re getting started on shaping this civilization up. You guys keep working on this.” He gives one of the players a pat on the back and leaves them to it. As soon as he steps through the dirt doorway, he sees something new in the distance. There is another dirt building, but behind it he can see a giant (also dirt) cross. A church? That wasn’t on the plan board but considering he’s basically the god he can get behind this.

He moves past the structure that’s clearly not ready to show anything off yet, and walks up to the small rounded building with a giant cross on top.

“Is this a church?” He asks one of the players nearby, they just stare at him silently, weird. So he peaks in through the door. It’s dark, and-

“ _ Woaah! _ ”

He took a step into the building and immediately fell on his face. He groans and turns onto his back. He realizes the floor isn’t flat at all. Causing him to fall when he expected the ground to catch his step. The floor in this tiny room is dug inwards, and so is the ceiling now that he's looking up at it from the ground, making a sort of egg shape. The players outside just peer in at him, staring silently. A chill goes down his spine.

“...This is creepy. This is so fucking creepy.” He tries to get up, stumbling a few times due to the rounded floor, and pushes his way through the players at the entrance to exit the strange church as quickly as possible.

He turns around and looks up at the cross at the sound of someone shouting for attention. There’s someone on top of the cross, jumping up and down. He floats up to see why.

Wilbur hovers just a head above him, it’s a man in a suit.

“What, what do you want?”

The player leans closer and whispers to him. Creepy. Why is everything around this building so creepy?

The player tells WIlbur what he wants. “Prophet?” Wilbur looks at him as he nods his head eagerly. “You want to be my prophet? Huh…” A prophet, someone to spread his words and do as he says. Yeah, yeah he likes that idea.

He grabs the player by under his arms and flys him up to the nearest bedrock platform, this happens to be the jail but the platform just outside it will do for what he needs. He drops them on the bedrock and lands next to him. 

“Hi, so-” The player isn’t looking at him. He’s staring at the bedrock, looking nervous.

Ok maybe the jail platform wasn’t the best idea.

“You're not in trouble.” Wilbur sighs, waiting for them to look at him. “You see those people? All those idiots down there?” He leans to the edge, gesturing to all the other players. He can see a little bit of fighting now, not nearly as much now that people are focused on building thankfully. “Those are  _ my _ people. I want you to go do something great for them as my prophet.” He spawns in various tree saplings and bone meal, passing them to the prophet. “And some of this to- give them bread, I don’t think the farmers made enough for everyone. Kind of overlooked the whole 100 players will all need to eat at some point.” 

“Go, go dispense my love to the people!” He dramatically waves his arms out at the ground. He waits for the prophet to jump, but instead watches some bread be thrown off the side of the platform.

“No,  _ go! _ Go down there and dispense! Just jump!” He huffs as he watches the prophet throw a few more loafs of bread. Eventually he steps behind him and just shoves him off, then watches him hit the water below. “Can’t get any decent help these days.” Wilbur groans, watching him swim back to shore. 

Now that he’s given them saplings, there will be trees again. Something that- within the borders -disappeared early on day one. Trees means wood, he sees so many dirt buildings below him right now and he wants it to stop. Even when L’Manberg had nothing, they still built walls out of blackstone. He’s not given them access to the nether but he wants to see at least wood and cobble. Figuring he should get out an actual message alongside his prophets dispensing of materials. Wilbur jumps down and hovers a bit closer to the land before shouting.

“LISTEN PLAYERS! AS YOUR DEITY, I DEMAND YOU STOP BUILDING OUT OF DIRT. MY NEW PROPHET WILL BE HANDING OUT SAPLINGS TO ASSIST WITH THIS!”

With the message given, he lands. Wilbur wants to spend a little time walking amongst his people to see how they’re doing. Things have gone great so far today! There’s less fighting, there are more and bigger buildings, he’s got a prophet, and oh look! There’s the king, and he got his crown back! It won’t be long before they replace the dirt with wood and stone, finish the other parts of the plan, and he can show it off to Phil. He can’t believe Philza ever thought he couldn’t take chaos. Sure things got a little… explosive, but it sounds like L’Manberg bounced back like the cockroach it is. Techno will stop brooding eventually, Tommy will get his screaming out and feel better, and then everything will be ok.

He hears someone calling out that they’re trading bread for wood, and when he turns around he sees a player waving bread loafs around to get attention.

_ His prophet. _

Wilbur swoops past and grabs the player by the back of his suit jacket, the unsuspecting man letting out a yelp as he’s pulled into the air. Wilbur ignores his distress as he flys him towards the bedrock jail platform again. Something new is there this time, a dirt pillar leading from the ground up to it. Growling in annoyance he quickly drops the frightened prophet onto the platform.Wilbur turns to face the person responsible for the dirt, standing on top of the end of the path looking at him with curiosity.

“Fine, you want my attention? You wanted to go places you shouldn’t so you could get some attention like a misbehaving child?” He spawns a sword into his hand, and brings it down before the player can react. They wore no armor, so it only takes two strikes to kill them. He takes a second to look at the spot where they turned into a puff of smoke when he hears a squeak behind him. Wilbur shoots a glare over his shoulder at the prophet, hand gripping the sword tightly.

He turns, his bloodstained trench coat dramatically flowing behind him as he does. The player never stood up when Wilbur dropped him, so the man’s excessive height is only a cherry on top as he looms over him. “You are incurring my wrath prophet.” 

Wilbur leans down and uses his free hand to grab his shirt, pulling him up. Once the frightened man is stood, he lets go and jabs a pointing finger to his chest. 

“You are not here to trade. With that  _ business suit- _ ” He’s suddenly reminded of rams and fury. “You are not here to trade. You are to dispense my love.” The prophet holds out a loaf of bread with a shaky hand, offering it to him. Wilbur pushes it away. “ _ No, _ not me. You give it to them, for free.” With a nervous smile, the prophet nods. He edges closer to the ledge and looks down, Wilbur knocks him off the platform again and doesn’t bother checking to make sure he hit the water.

* * *

_ <Philza> [wil holy shit] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [oh dont start, the qualifications for the ban appeal were that I can handle the smps chaos, not that i never get angry.] _

_ <Philza> [thats not the point of this. i dont expect perfection but you really went from 0 to 100 there, especially on that random player that pillared up.] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [thats bullshit, all you ever expect from me is perfection.] _

_ <Philza> [what? no i dont] _

_ <Philza> [if i see you acting like that of course im going to be concerned about how your doing.] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [you never do that to techno.] _

_ <Philza> [techno just fights, you hurt your brothers in a far more meaningful way and i need you to see that before it gets worse.]  _

_ <Philza> [techno actually did hurt tommy pretty bad just after you left, they are both mad at each other now and i havent gotten a chance to talk to him because he was ignoring my messages.] _

_ <Philza> [and tommy just refuses any help i try and give, that kids so stuck in his head that hes the one whos right no matter what that i cant help.] _

_ <Philza> [wil please i know ive fucked up not coming sooner. im trying my best to fix things between all of us but i cant do that if you boys choose to keep being mad.] _

_... _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [its not your job to fix us. you didnt cause this by not coming sooner, we should have been better brothers to each other.] _

_ <Philza> [oh wil...] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [tommys been a bit of a bitch the last few months, but ill consider being less mad at him about it when i get back.] _

_ <Philza> [god damnit thats not what i meant and you know it] _

* * *

Wilbur sighs with annoyance.

After a brief encounter with a player who didn’t feel like participating and started playing skyblock instead, he simply hovered about, watching as his prophet did as he told him to.

Finally trees were growing again, and finally people had wood.

He checks in on the hospital again. It’s mostly made of dirt still but someones working on changing the walls to stone.

“Good, your god is happy.” He comments to the players in the vicinity, mostly getting ignored.

He doesn’t understand the point of the flower field, he wishes they would work on the society like the rest of the players. But it’s only the two out of however many of them are left, it doesn’t hurt to let them sort that out themselves.

Speaking of sorting out problems… he’s seen lots of people fighting over the last two days, where is the police?

On his way through the players trying to discern who was in charge of getting police together, he comes across what might be one of his favourite things someone has built so far.

A 5x5 pit in the ground labeled ‘the naughty hole’.

* * *

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [see? i didnt even tell them to make a pit and they just make it themselves. these random players agree that there is nothing wrong with getting your brothers to fight in a pit to work out their issues.] _

_ <Philza> [im gonna put you in that pit myself if you dont cut that shit out mate] _

* * *

Once he figures out who claims to be the police chief, and argues about whether or not they need to heal before they can build a shack like everyone else is doing for the police station, he sighs again and runs a hand through his hair, trying not to knock off his beanie. No one told him god was such a stressful job. And he’s not even supposed to be intervening this much but he’s had to, so far. He’s been an admin before but he wasn’t admin  _ alone  _ until now. Maybe he just needs… a little fun.

And that’s how he ends up supplying drugs to the head of the hospital, covered in splash potion a few minutes later when said head doctor just hands the drugs out like candy.

Wilbur takes his beanie off to wring the health potion out of it. God, he really needs to just dunk these clothes in a river and at least  _ try _ to get the blood and drugs out of them. At least his precious beanie is only one of those two. He doesn’t think anyones going to let him walk around the smp with this blood stained trench coat with a big hole in the back ever again. He’ll just have to replace it when he gets the chance.

So long as he is checking in on the head of police and hospital, he should check the head of the other divisions as well. What were they again? … Right! School, food, and there is a housing team but they seem a little spread out now. He hasn’t heard a thing from the school team though, it takes him a minute of floating around to find a small cobblestone building that he  _ thinks  _ is the school house.

He  _ tries  _ to take the person who claims the role as headmaster up to the bedrock platform, but he may have… accidentally dropped them. It wasn’t his fault! They were wiggling in his grip! He just doesn’t want to have to interrupt the communicators recording every time he needs to tp someone. 

After a moment of shocked silence, looking at where they hit the ground and turned into a puff of smoke, he grabs the communicator and switches them out of spectator mode, then teleports the poor confused player to the platform with him.

“Rebirth! It’s a miracle, you’re alive again. I’m such a benevolent god.” He says, trying to mask his embarrassment at the blunder. After handing the school headmaster a shiny apple and a bunch of books, he lets them back down  _ slowly _ and sends them on their way.

He spends a little time jumping from house builder to house builder to see if they need anything. But as per his luck so far…

“ _ Prophet! _ ” 

He comes across something new his prophet has built. Some sort of statue he’s standing on top of, shouting about a crab god and claiming he, the prophet himself, is religion.

Wilbur feels anger boiling under his skin again. He pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out an annoyed sigh, before grabbing the prophet by the back of his shirt for the second time today and flying him to the bedrock platform.

“Prophet.” Wilbur says with annoyance. The man looks at him nervously, but stands straight this time. Backbone huh? Wilbur will see if that holds up. He spawns in a book and starts writing, reading aloud as he does.

“Rules. Commandments for you, the prophet, to follow. By me, god.” He gives him a pointed look, due to Wilburs height however (and the clothes) it’s probably a lot scarier than intended. He’s so used to half of his friends being 6 feet tall and up.

“Rule one, no false idols.” He lifts his pen and jabs it at the players chest. “None of this crab shit, none of this ‘i am religion’ shit.” He waits for the nod before continuing. He should probably give the guy some actual guidelines to follow.

“Rule two, no murder. I hoped that was obvious but day one says it was not.”

“Rule three no stealing, rule four…” What other rules does he normally see from gods or admins?

Griefing?

…

_ This isn’t L’Manberg. _

“No blowing shit up or burning things.”

_ This isn’t L’Manbergthisisn’tL’Manberthisisn’tMyL’Manberg- _

If the prophet noticed Wilbur getting twitchy they didn’t say anything.

“Rule five, no… just no.” And with that he slaps the book shut and tosses it to the prophet. He doesn’t wait for the man's hesitation this time to knock him off the platform.

* * *

_ <Philza> [wow you dont like that guy at all do you] _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [no. i dont know why i kept him around by that point i should have just given out the saplings myself.] _

_ <Philza> [well apart from that earlier incident, things seem to be going better today.] _

_ <Philza> [i still have concerns, but if things go well tomorrow then i think itll be safe to deal with them together on the smp. healing doesnt need to happen all at once.] _

* * *

  
  


After a little incident with a giant letter E and accidentally dropping another player while trying to tell them to cut that out, he meets the head farmer. Wilbur supplies her with a diamond hoe, potatoes, carrots, and melon seeds. That should be enough to get some variety. 

But the sun’s down already. So with that final task taken care of he announces to the players that it is once again time to sleep and returns home for the night.

He’s not really hungry since he’s been in creative mode all day, but he starts making a baked potato in his smoker anyways. He could just spawn it in but fresh always tasted better. He’s just done eating as he finishes cutting out the unimportant bits of the footage and sends it to Phil.

<Philza> [nice]

<Philza> [by the way, thanks for talking to techno. he finally messaged me today, apparently he just completely hyper focused on building a new base that he hadn’t realized how long he’d been ignoring his communicator for.]

<Wilbur_Soot> [oh look at that, im fixing stuff for you all the way from another world. seems like something someone totally not crazy would do.]

<Philza> [nice try. also i never called you crazy.] 

<Philza> [considering how much time you had to text me and techno this morning im gonna hope today went better then yesterday?]

<Wilbur_Soot> [it was a bit of a rollercoaster. mostly went well but a handful of trouble makers.]

<Philza> [and you werent one of them?]

<Wilbur_Soot> [there may have been drugs at one point!]

<Philza> [what is with you and drugs???]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it'd be a shame if the final day was a total disaster for Wilbur and Phil denies his appeal huh?
> 
> With holiday season and me having a job I have to go to, chapters might take longer to write then I want them to unfortunately. But I'm doing my best to get these updates out! :D 
> 
> Tumblr: @gearstorm  
> Twitter: @gearstorm_


	4. So close.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last day of the event, all Wilbur has to do is keep everyone on track and to not screw this up.
> 
> Phil really has to put on the dad voice today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely sure this chapter worked out how I wanted it to but I was satisfied enough after a read through.
> 
> This wont be the last chapter but I have to actually sit down and work out a timeline to not write myself into a corner after this, and work is really a lot this holiday season so it might take a little longer then usual to get the next chapter out. Please be patient with me! :)
> 
> I'll be adding this to the notes at the beginning of the work but for those who have already read past that point, I've decided I wont be following the cannon lore of dsmp. In this story, its no fundys wilburs son no dreams actually a phsycho god basically its an au where minecraft is the real world, no ones related except the sleepy bois + tubbo. And theres no deep lore to the wars, its just friends fighting with each other being over dramatic theater kids until someone took it a little too far. Because I want to address things that happen in the wars but not have to write around the confusing complex lore that characterizes people completely different from their actual selves, like dream.
> 
> Comments are appreciated!!

_ <Philza> [wilbur its gotten late, why haven’t you sent me todays footage yet?] _

_ … _

_ <Philza> [come on mate where are you] _

_ … _

_ <Wilbur_Soot> [just forget about todays footage it didnt work out] _

* * *

Wilbur groaned as he tugged his gloves on. He was exhausted. He thought yesterday went great, sure he got mad a couple times and accidentally killed someone when he was just trying to move them to the jail platform for a chat. But after talking with Phil, he couldn’t get it out of his head that Phil might turn him down anyways. Maybe he already decided and-

_ Nope.  _ Nope, that’s the exact kind of thinking that led Wilbur to standing in a room with a single button, chair, and song lyrics scribbled all over the walls. 

It’s also the kind of thinking that left him with barely any sleep. Both in the past, and now.

But he let himself go then. Phil thinks that will happen again and he’s here to prove he can handle it if he just tires  _ harder _ .

Phils already wished him good morning, and Techno didn’t seem interested in chatting. And the package with WIlburs clothes still hadn’t arrived. But despite the lack of things to do this morning he still didn’t have time to kill, it took him so long to fall asleep that he accidentally slept in and the sun was already almost up. So without wasting any more time, he leaves the house. Flipping his camera on as he slips past the barrier again. He sees a few people are already up, a few more trailing out of the now many more houses that were built yesterday.

“Sorry I’m a tad late, hope you have all been behaving. Today will probably be the last day if the amount of progress we made yesterday continues!” He says with his voice raised just enough that at least most of the people heard him. He floats down to the ground, and the moment his foot touches the grass is when the first problem of the day reveals itself.

_ “THERE IS AN ARREST WARRANT OUT FOR WILBUR SOOT FOR MURDER” _

That’s what he hears someone shout, off in the distance. 

Wilbur turns to see the black and blue cloak of the man who claimed to be in charge of the police yesterday across the map. He flies his way over there quickly and within moments he’s looming over him, barely a foot of space between them.

“Do you want to say that again?” His voice was chillingly calm, as he looked down his nose at the player. It’s hard to judge their reaction, because their face is void black and their eyes completely white. Reminds him of Badboyhalo. “Come on, what did you say? Say it again. There's an arrest warrant out for me?” He leans down and gets in the player's face.

“ _ Are you going to arrest god? _ ”

He waits in silence for a moment.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you’d say. Nothing.” He doesn’t spare them a second look as he walks away, feeling his job had been accomplished.

What was he even trying to arrest him for? He heard him say murder. Was this about the player he accidentally dropped and didn’t bother reviving? Who the hell tries to arrest the event host, the  _ single admin, _ over an accidental kill in a short 3 day event? This temporary community's police system is so scuffed. First they just kill random players, then need to be ordered to do their actual task of building a station for themselves, and now this? Good thing this event is almost over anyways. 

Maybe he should help the police team do their job better? The most he has interfered with the different teams so far has just been supplying materials that were finite or inaccessible due to the barrier. Wilbur ponders as he stares at the water feature labeled fountain of death someone has humorously built next to the hospital. 

It was the last day and he had yet to see the police team be productive without him making them, and simply watching everyone was getting boring. It wouldn't hurt surley. This was just for fun after all, aside from showing Phil he  _ wasn’t  _ crazy.

He decides to check chat, see if any trouble maker’s names catch his eye. Grabbing the floating communicator and turning off camera mode for a moment he scrolls through the servers chat history. It’s a lot of spam and nonsense, a little bit of communication between the teams. After a minute of looking he sees someone marked as from the police team telling people to watch out for a certain player who’s killed a lot of people. He copies the name into a /tp to command, and suddenly finds himself in a ravine underground. The torch lit space gives him… feelings.

He turns to see the player he teleported to behind him, and lets the communicator go back to camera mode. The player has iron armor, and is holding a sword in a defensive stance as he stares in surprise at Wilbur. Well he did just teleport to him without warning, so the fear was fair enough response.

“Oh, you’re hiding? From the law?”  _ In a ravine from a president and his goons who’s exiled you?  _ Wilbur shoves the sudden familiarity down, his hands twitch a little. “You’ve been bad.”

The player shakes his head at WIlbur, still holding his defensive stance. “No? Then you won't mind if I bring you up to the surface then?” He doesn’t wait for a response as he uses creative mode to quickly knock the stone and dirt above them away making a vertical tunnel to the surface. He floats back down and grabs the player from behind so he doesn’t have the chance to swing his sword at him. Wilbur brings him up, and drops him on the ground near the police station where there’s a few of the police players gathered outside. 

“Look at this guy. Who’s this police guys, a friend perhaps?” He jumps out of the way as one of them instantly jumps forward swinging their sword, and the player he dragged up here starts running. The violence doesn’t bother him as much as it did the first day anymore. Surly not having bad thoughts when he (incites murder) sees fighting is good evidence for Phil that hes fine?

He should check out the police station while he is here. He's gotten to see everyone elses buildings so far and the only time he's visited this one until now was to (threaten) chat with the police chief about trying to arrest (gods) admins.

He goes into the building. It’s not much, sort of one big room split in two by a wall. In the empty cell, Wilbur can see the blue barrier on the cobblestone wall in the back. Because this building is right at the edge of the barrier your vision gets red from standing in the cell due to being too close. He finds that a fun touch. 

On his way out the police chief steps into the doorway and places some stone in his way, then silently stares at him as if challenging the god. The police member that was in the station when Wilbur walked in starts boxing him in from behind. It’s almost cute that they think this will do anything.

Wilbur removes the stone easily being in creative mode, and pulls the chief into the station with him. He spawns in a crossbow with some decent enchantments and arrows, then passes it to them. “Here, this is gun. This is how you will enforce order. Go have fun.” He gives the player a little pat on their head and leaves as if they hadn’t just attempted to jail him. They aren’t worth the effort right now.

Down the hill the station stands on, he finds a board of signs. It reads “police notice board” at the top. Someone has written “Wilbur Scoot is a madman” next to the title. Huh, wonder who this scoot fellow is. He moves on to the rest of the things written below.

“Destroying things will result in your immediate arrest and crucifixion. Got these signs from a dead guy.” Wilbur chuckles. “Wanted: Wilbur Soot, reward no.” He immediately removes this one from the board. “Anybody visiting must read all signs.” Is this really all they had? He should probably just give up on the police team. It was a good time to check on the others anyways. He leaves the police corner and floats off towards the farms to check on them once again.

He ends up giving them a bunch of bonemeal. Farms take time and this is the last day so no point in making them sit around and wait for nothing. He pops in on the hospital again and after a chat about having finished roofs and no grass floors in a place that’s supposed to be sterile, he passes out more drugs and calls his work there done. The school… exists. He likes that the lesson written on the board is to praise him. 

He’s about to be on his way to find the head of the housing team, he discovers a sign advertising a zoo. So he floats over to the coordinates it lists, and finds a tiny pen with a mound of dirt labeled “cow.” That just made WIlbur sad, but he doesn’t want to start anything by spawning any actual animals for people to start fighting over so he at least replaces the dirt with white and brown wool so it looks more cow-like.

He leaves and circles around the area some more, wondering if there’s any more small things like that Wilbur has missed. Today hasn’t gone great and he’d like to see a few more good things to show off to Phil before the end of the event. He ends up stumbling upon the start of a new building. It’s got a front wall and floor, rows of chairs and a heightened stand in back. A single player is working on the walls that haven’t gone up yet. When he checks the sign on the door frame of the only current wall, it reads “courthouse”.

“Oh, we have law!” Wilbur feels like this is a step in the right direction, as opposed to that useless police team. “You're going to be the judge, I’m assuming.” He says to the player building, who nods in confirmation. “Here, have a gavel and a bell, make noise with that when you call for order.” The player graciously takes the tools, and goes back to work. 

Wilbur floats away satisfied. He moves around for another minute and is reading an odd sign someone has made about crabs when he sees…  _ something _ , in the distance. He gets closer and realizes it’s the zoo, and the wool cow he made has disappeared.

“What the f…”

The pen is now literally overflowing with actual baby cows, possibly a hundred of them. He snatches his communicator from where it’s floating and checks the commands he has set to run, and yep. Passive creatures still shouldn't be able to spawn in this area. How did this happen? He really hopes there isn’t a hacker. Though at least if it is the work of a hacker the worst they’ve done is… overflow this corner of the area with baby cows.

Tommy would probably be both ecstatic and laughing his ass off at this.

He slowly floats away as the exact reason he didn’t let passive mobs spawn starts occurring, and players swarm the cows and start killing them despite the fact that they won’t get anything from baby cows.

“Okay, well…” He turns his attention to the closest thing that catches his eye. It's a roofless building with a sign above the door that says “Don’t break the law” the one to the side of the door saying “The Naughty Hole”. Ah, so they’ve improved it since yesterday? He opens the door and yep, it's a hole in the ground now with walls that come to points of varying heights at the top. He likes the design, maybe he should make a fancier fight pit when he gets back and Tommy inevitably wants to fight him for blowing up L’Manberg. Maybe he’ll let Tommy get a few hits in before he knocks him around.

He runs into the prophet just outside the hole, and while he gives him some golden apples to hand out he sees smoke rising in the distance and the familiar glow of lava. Wilbur shoots into the air and sees someone has poured lava over the not even finished court house. Can’t have shit around here. Wilbur quickly flys over and starts spawning in water buckets, he uses them to put out a player who’s caught fire. He realizes too late he accidentally spawned a pufferfish bucket, but at least the poison won’ kill them like the fire will. He swaps the pufferfish bucket for a regular water bucket and drops it over the lava, getting rid of it but also effectively lava casting the court house. 

They’ll just have to clean the cobble up themselves. He’s already interfering too much again but he just wanted one damn sense of law and order around here. However the fire breaking out gives him an idea. He grabs a random player and pulls them up to the bedrock platform above the water.

“You can be the fire fighter. Here, I’ll give you what you’ll need.”

He gives them some water buckets and decent potions. It’s a little late in the event but it’ll have to do. As he tries to fly away they call out to him, claiming they’re stuck if he doesn’t fly them back to the ground. 

“No, you aren’t stuck. Just jump down. Here I’ll help you.” He floats back over and knocks them off the platform. He watches the player fall, and finally realises the farm team have completely replaced the water below with farmland. They hit the ground and immediately turn into a puff of smoke.

Wilbur just stares for a moment, then sits on the bedrock and holds his head in his hands in distress. He stays like that for a minute before letting out a heavy sigh.

“What is wrong with me? Why do I do this?” He gets up and flies over the area. He looks out at the community he’s worked with these random players to create. It actually looks like a place now, instead of a couple random dirt huts.

“You know what? The world is doing fine. I’m doing good, I think I am honestly. Phil will definitely like this.” He looks at the farms. “I’ve got a prophet, I picked a really good head farmer.” He flies over to the hospital, the roof has been fixed and nothing is made of dirt anymore. “This place is looking a lot better too! You’ve done a good job here head surgeon.” He decides to give them a hat to make them stand out as the leader. He walks out and ignores the other hospital staff trying to take the hat for themselves.

Wilbur continues to try and point out all the things going well. If not for the camera then for himself. He realizes suddenly that he visited a few house team builders yesterday but never found a head of the team. He asks around and finds the player claiming to be that person, and brings them up to the bedrock platform above the farms. 

He hands them some building materials that you can't get within the barrier, like brick and quartz. He feels like this should be enough, and floats up preparing to carry him back to the ground. But instead the player peaks over the edge, pulls out a water bucket, and places water at the edge. He lets it flow down for a minute before jumping into the stream, and Wilbur realizes the problem.

“The farms. Your going to ruin the farms, fuck your going to ruin the farms!” He flies down to the ground, the water fast approaching above. “God to the rescue god to the rescue I can fix this-” He grabs the first block he has in his inventory, which turns out to be bedrock. He quickly starts building around the approaching water, it just barely starts to spill out of the bedrock bowl once it reaches the ground. That little amount gets out, and it only destroys about 3 crops instead of the majority of the field like that large amount would have. 

“I did it! I saved the crops!” Wilbur grins, looking at the people gathering around. “Oh, I’m such a good and benevolent leader.” 

He floats away, leaving behind the mound of bedrock on top of the farm.

Wilbur goes to the second bedrock platform, the one above where there used to be trees. He stands at the edge and looks out at the world. He notices the prophet being yet again standing on top of a cross, shouting something that he can’t hear from where he is at the people below. Is that all the man does when Wilbur isn’t bullying him into doing his job? And in the corner to the side, the player who decided to play skyblock instead of participate seems to be doing well, he sees a wood house and a friend up there with them now. Everything else below is running smoothly now. 

“This is good. This is a well run world, everythings looks good now.” He says, not sure if for the camera or himself. 

He…

He’s  _ bored  _ now. He’s been rather bored all day actually.

All he’s done is do good and be nice and run the event like a good god (when did he stop calling himself admin?) but now, he thinks he’s done enough to prove himself. A little dirty crime can’t hurt. But he can’t do the crime himself, no he’s god he’s not supposed to do that. (Dream does, he's the god of his server and he does it all the time.)

He flies to the surface, finds an isolated player swinging a sword around. He leans in and whispers to him. 

“Player, nod if you're good at crime.” He says quietly. They look at him for a moment before nodding excitedly. Wilbur spawns in a bunch of bedrock, a full set of diamond armor, a diamond sword, a bunch of bad drugs like poison and harming potions and passes it to the mortal player.

“Go, cause havoc.” He whispers again, and shoves him towards the quaint little society he founded.

He watches from a distance as the chosen equips the armor and walks towards the farms.

It starts small, just destroying crops with the sword. People immediately start converging on them, so the chosen whips out the bedrock and starts throwing it down to block them, rendering many chunks of farmland unusable. He gets chased out of the farm where he reaches the school house and blocks the entrance with more bedrock. 

Wilbur giggles in excitement. He missed this, good old dirty crime. He floats over and drops a potion of invisibility on his chosen in hopes of helping them, it doesn’t do much however as the drug doesn’t affect the armor. It doesn’t stop Wilbur from getting giddy however as he watches people start to run from the maniac.

The king joins the fighting at some point, and it’s about 4 mere players and the king versus Wilburs chosen. A familiar excitement fills him as he watches everything they’ve worked to build these last 3 days descend into chaos. 

But eventually the chosen dies. Wilbur watches as those fighting him just stand there, unsure what to do now.

Well, that was fun. Time to wrap up-

Someone else has picked up the diamond sword his previous chosen dropped and is now attacking people.

Another player has grabbed the bedrock and is now going wild with it, and he sees the king has taken the diamond helmet the previous chosen dropped and replaced his crown with it, he is now running around attacking people as well.

Of course, why did he expect any less from his disciples? Destruction, chaos, and traitorism runs through the once peaceful community. He  _ loves it _ . There’s one thing missing though, and for once it isn’t drugs.

He’s got tnt in his hands, and he uses his (god) admin powers to create a mountain. He just smiles cheerfully as he waits. And as expected someone eventually lights a single piece at the bottom.

Wilbur smiles, grins even, as the tnt flies around him exploding. Leaving him untouched for he is the god of this world.

His ears are ringing still when the last piece of tnt explodes. But he doesn’t need his hearing to know that everything has gone deathly quiet, as there is no one left alive.

He looks below at his fine work.

He sees his communicator floating next to him in his peripheral, capturing everything like it's supposed to.

…

Like it's supposed to. Watch him prove to Phil  _ to himself _ that he's not crazy.

…

He looks below him and sees L’Manberg.

Wilbur floats in the air, he takes the sight in. He can almost feel the sword in his stomach. He reaches a hand where he was wounded, the bloodstain still there from two weeks ago.

He doesn’t know how long he sat there, staring at the carter, but at some point he realizes the sun has set. He grabs the communicator from the sky and ends the recording. 

Quickly he kicks any players that remained either in spectator mode or were probably mining underground when the tnt went off. He ends all the commands he was running for the event and watches as the barrier fizzles out, the command block he set up at the start powers down in the distance, its lights blinking out.

He flys home and disables creative mode as he lands. He tosses a potato into the smoker as he enters his makeshift kitchen and then keeps walking.

Wilbur paces while he waits for it to cook, completely unable to focus his mind on anything specific right now. He's running completely on automatic and forcing any and all emotions down any time they try to remind him what just happened. He winds up pacing into his bedroom, and sees something sitting on top of his bed.

A box. Addressed to him. He opens the box sitting on his spawn point and finds familiar clothes, all neatly folded, a little cheerful note from Phil sitting on top.

He sets the note aside and picks up the jumper on the top of the stack, yellow and soft and clean. He looks down at himself, ratty, bloody, and dirty. Wilbur grips the jumper from his father to his chest, as he sits on the ground leaning his back against the bed. It’s nice, how soft it feels.

He's pulled out of it when he smells a burning potato, and runs to grab it from the smoker before he burns the place down. The jumper tossed over the back of the kitchen chair, Wilbur pulls the slightly singed potato out and plates it, sitting at the table and eating it despite its damage.

The sun has been down for a few hours now and he's still considering what to do when Phil messages him.

<Philza> [wilbur its gotten late, why haven’t you sent me todays footage yet?]

He contemplates ignoring the message.

<Philza> [come on mate where are you]

…He can’t. He can’t just ignore Phil right now. He knows Phil will worry if he does and he doesnt deserve that.

<Wilbur_Soot> [just forget about todays footage it didnt work out]

<Philza> [uh oh]

<Philza> [wil we had an agreement, you gotta send it to me and not cut out the bad stuff]

<Wilbur_Soot> [you dont need to worry about the appeal i know youll deny it already. just forget about your insane son and go back to helping techno tommy and tubbo or whatever]

<Philza> [enough]

<Philza> [you think i care if your a little crazy? techno fucks with demon magic one time and now hes got a really bad greek chorus in his head]

<Philza> [tommys chaos incarnate and wouldnt sit and be quiet to save his life, i still have no clue if those other names tubbo goes by are actually some sort of alternate versions of himself or an act]

<Philza> [i once ordered an airstrike on a bunch of technos baby villagers and laughed as techno watched, i also recently killed every mob passive or hostile in sight on an outing with him just because his reaction made me laugh. not to mention i have that nickname angel of death for a reason]

<Philza> [blowing up a country you just fought and won a war with your friends and family to get back? a little much but techno literally spawned two withers in the remains of l’manberg and screamed at tommy to die after you left.] 

<Philza> [you may have cut off contact some time after your exile but your brothers still kept me slightly up to date while i argued with dream about whitelisting me. you really hurt them, in a way thats worse then just stabbing or blowing them up. you hurt yourself a lot to, judging by some stuff tommy said.]

<Philza> [so my concern is if you are going to be ok. a detonation room with lyrics scribbled on the walls like a madman is usually an indicator that the lines been crossed.]

<Philza> [so cut that shit out and send me the footage so i know what we need to work on together, alright? i cant help if i dont know whats wrong.]

Wilbur takes a ragged deep breath in and out. He realizes he's started crying at some point when a tear drops from his cheek and hits his hand.

<Wilbur_Soot> [its unedited, and theres a lot of nothing at the end before i ended the recording.]

<Philza> [yeah yeah theres a skip ahead button for a reason.]

<Philza> [dont worry wil, even if i dont think your ready to go back to dreams smp at the end of this, we will work through this together this time. and dont forget going back there isnt the only option, i can always get techno, tubbo, and drag tommy back home and your always welcome to join us there]

...

<Wilbur_Soot> [ok]

Wilbur sends the recording of today’s events before he can convince himself to delete it.

It’s a long night, especially now that he’s not in creative mode anymore. Phil doesn’t comment on Wilburs actions the whole time, as the man is perfectly aware that Wilbur already knows today went bad and doesn’t need constant reminding. It’s not even  _ that _ bad, it’s not that bad until the end.

Wilburs almost fallen asleep at the table when Phil finally messages him.

<Philza> [ok]

<Philza> [that was kinda bad. like full repeat of last time bad.]

<Wilbur_Soot> [i told you]

<Philza> [you really just kinda floated there for a while at the end. you ok?]

<Wilbur_Soot> [i dont know anymore. i thought i was. then i took what was almost perfect results and threw it away for no reason.]

<Philza> [ok well let me make this clear, if this was just about you hosting an event and it ending like that i dont care if you wanna do that its up to you.]

<Philza> [im concerned about you controlling yourself and not doing that when its your brothers and friends who have worked hard for a long time on what your destroying instead of random people who have been there for 3 days.]

<Philza> [can you honestly tell me right now that you can do that?]

<Wilbur_Soot> [no]

<Philza> [maybe this experiment was a little too close to what sent you into that mindset in the first place. we can talk about it more in the morning, im about to pass out on my communicator here.]

<Wilbur_Soot> [same here. goodnight philza.]

<Philza> [and change out of the bloody clothes, i know the box arrived today.]

<Wilbur_Soot> [yes dad]

<Philza> [oh dont you fucking start]

Wilbur smiled softly at his communicator, walked back to his bedroom, and found himself asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

Guess he’ll just have to try again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as I said at the start I have some stuff to work out about the story before I write the next chapter so it may be a little longer then usual! Hope you've enjoyed so far! :D
> 
> tumblr: @gearstorm  
> twitter: @gearstorm_


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